Some Never Learn
by TheGrammarHawk
Summary: In the year 2384, everything falls apart. Thirty countries start fighting in what will prove to be an unforgivable war. Watch as tensions rise with their guns and loved ones fight loved ones. Countries marrying for safety, breaking others' hearts, bullets piercing people they were never supposed to... Rated T for blood, violence, swearing, death, and everything else I've done.
1. Chapter 1: Bombing of China

**AN: I'm sorry, I'm a bad girl. I am a very bad girl. I should be working on other stories but no, I'm working on this. I actually have a bunch done so far, hope ya'll like it. All translations can from Google Translate, so pardon if they are wrong. Along with anything else that may be wrong. My OC Costa Rica is in this, if you don't know her already. Her name is Camilla Madrigal. There are also various pairings in this, both forced and not. In this, North and South Italy are two different countries, Prussia has his own country again, and Liechtenstein is an adult. There are also three teams in this.**

**Preservation Bond: Austria, Canada, China, Costa Rica, Iceland, Liechtenstein, Lithuania, North Italy, South Italy, Switzerland. - Want World Peace and are attempting to gain it, were challenged by the DFU.**

**Passive-Fight Union: America, Finland, France, Japan, Norway, Poland, Prussia, South Korea, Taiwan, Ukraine. - Want all of the fighting to stop and are attempting to stop the war forcefully, only managed to make it worse.**

**Dominance Forcers United: Belarus, Denmark, England, Germany, Greece, Hungary, Mexico, Russia, Spain, Sweden. - Are attempting to show the world that violence and strength are what is really needed, and started with trying to wipe out the PB.**

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my character Camilla Madrigal. I am poor, do not sue me, you'll get nothing.

...

"So, Costa Rica, good to see you." The Tico looked over at the Austrian who sat across the room. She nodded politely to him and the rest of the room, taking her place at the table.

Austria sat of the head of this table, hands clasped as he looked at the few people before him. He took a count: four were missing.

"Where are the others?" he asked. He was now the leader of the Preservation Bond, and was trying to keep everyone together – even though now they had become targets of both opponents. He wasn't completely thrilled with his leadership either, as now he had to have meetings with the other two – America and Russia.

Canada's voice was quiet as he spoke up. "Liechtenstein is home," he nodded at Switzerland, "Veneziano has been put on lockdown; they're hearing rumors of an attack from France and Poland, though we don't know how true they are. Lithuania's being watched by Russia and Belarus, apparently – he's also on lockdown. And China… well, I believe that Costa Rica could answer this more easily."

Everyone shifted to look at her. She folded her arms. "China's still at his house, and we all know why, not just me. He's under threat of attack from the Asians of the Passive-Fight Union. It's too dangerous for him to leave. That's why we have the Centro-Míngxīng Pact, right?"

Her voice was blank in the question. Austria nodded, looking away. "So then you listened to my advice…"

"Yes, I did." She held up her left hand, a single gold ring on it. "Through the Pact our countries were allied within the Preservation Bond, marrying us effectively. If he's in trouble, I come to help, and vice-versa. I'm currently stationed in his household, my soldiers among his ranks."

Her voice grew hushed, voice deeply serious. "I don't like the sound of what's going on. Don't you get it? They aren't just rumors anymore. We even caught a Taiwanese spy. It's going to happen, and we could use more backup. This isn't just an attack, Austria. The Passive-Fight Union wants to thoroughly destroy him and his country! They think he's the driving force behind us, the leader – when it's you. Their mistake could cost him his _life._"

"I know," he replied softly. "We just have to make sure everything's safe. That's why we held our meeting _here_ this time. So that if something happened, we could go into action."

After discussing several other advances and techniques, they were ready to be on their way.

Camilla walked briskly through the crowded streets of China. Only… she looked around, blood running cold. There was virtually no one there. This was Beijing, the capital of China! Where had everyone gone?

That was when a huge explosion sent her blood running cold. She turned, fearing what she would see.

Plumes and plumes of smoke rose over the part of the city behind her, fires spreading from building to building. She looked up, stepping back.

"Those jets," she whispered eyes stinging from the smoke. Her voice rose into a panic. "Those are Japanese jets! They're here!"

She ripped off her coat and scarf, throwing off her jeans. She threw her bag on the ground, pulling out boots and her phone.

"Commander, the invasion has started! Ready the troops, hurry, move, move, _move_! The country is under attack! Get me Lady Rosa Forte, right now!"

She had her boots on, now dressed in a brown leather one-piece that covered her body from her neck to her wrists to her ankles, leather plating providing minimal armor. She started running, flipping a gun out to her hand as she tossed her phone to her left, pressing it to her ear.

The reply was fast. _"Of course ma'am, we'll get right on that. Switching Lady Forte to the line."_

Rosa Forte was the twenty year old daughter of the president, Miguel Forte. She worked for Camilla in her spare time, and had been adamant about coming to China with her. She waited for her response.

_"Miss Madrigal, what's going on?"_ "Rosa, is anything going on back at the house? Where's Yao?!" _"Mister Wang is with me, ma'am. Something happened, and there's a wound on his chest. He's having a hard time breathing and has been asking for you–"_

Something that sounded like a crash was issued from the other line. Camilla paused to shoot an advancing rogue Korean soldier, killing him instantly, before questioning. "Rosa, what was that?"

No reply for a while, and Camilla found herself running down the correct street. _"My lady – someone has broken in – I can't talk, I–"_

The call died, and Camilla stuffed her phone into her bag angrily. _So help me if he's there, if I'm right–!_

Her heart sunk every time she heard another scream, another bomb dropped, more gunshots. She herself flinched whenever one of her own dropped.

But then she saw the house she had been living in for the past week. She kicked the door down, throwing her bag down as well as she walked into the house.

She gave a breath of relief seeing the young blonde woman tied up on the couch, and untied her. "Rosa, gracias a Dios que estás bien! Escucha, llama a mi piloto privado, estamos tomando el avión de vuelta a Costa Rica. Tenemos que salir de aquí, ya no es seguro." She nodded, doing as told. Camilla carefully climbed the stairs.

She threw open the door, stopping at the sight in front of her. Lying on the floor in a puddle of his own blood, barely breathing was Yao. And standing above him, katana pressing gingerly to his neck was none other than the man Camilla had expected all along.

"Japan…" she said softly, regaining her bearings. "I knew it, dammit! You're so prideful; you had to be here to kill him yourself!"

Within the next second, eyes burning with a hot fire, her gun raised immediately. She was barely in control of herself as she fired a shot, embedding itself in Japan's sword arm.

In his split second of hesitation, she sprinted across the room, spinning, and sent a sharp kick to his head. Blood shooting from his mouth, he staggered back before collapsing. Taking the rope that she had cut from Rosa, she tied him up.

Her attention then turned to the one she had been forced to marry and move in with, a friend she had though would be the last to fall.

Camilla kneeled next to him, taking him up into her arms, eyes stinging. "I was too late… we were all too late…"

The older one stirred slightly, pale from blood loss, voice weak. "Not… yet… s-still… h-here…"

She nearly jumped as another explosion sounded outside, and blood spurted from Yao's chest. Face gritted in pain, he cried, the pain becoming overwhelming.

"Please, Yao, don't… it's alright… it's going to be okay. We're already sending Icelandic attack forces to stop the attacks as well…" she smoothed his dark hair, cradling him close. "You're not out of this fight yet, you'll – you'll recover."

His incoherent speech was suddenly understandable. "D-Don't… kill… just… anything…" Her gaze shot up to the other in the room, who was lying completely still. Her heart broke.

She pressed her forehead down to his. "Alright. I won't kill him. I won't kill Japan. Shh, it's… it's okay…"

The second he passed out, Rosa burst into the room, eyes wide at the sight before her. "What is it, Rosa?"

"The… the jet… it's here…" "Thank you."

She stood, holding Yao gingerly. She nodded at the prone figure on the floor. "Grab him. He's coming with us."

"My lady – mercy? You're… why? Are we going to kill him publicly?"

"Oh calm yourself. I'm not killing him… He's going to be our prisoner."

...

**AN: Hope you enjoyed! R&R!**


	2. Chapter 2: Back in Costa Rica

**AN: All translations can from Google Translate, so pardon if they are wrong. Along with anything else that may be wrong. Also: Countries can die in this story. They fall into a coma and wake up later on, depending on who they are.**

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my character Camilla Madrigal. I am poor, do not sue me, you'll get nothing.

...

"I'm sorry… we lost Japan."

America looked at the two beat up Asian countries standing before him. Taiwan's voice shook as she looked away, South Korea looking frustrated himself. He spoke next.

"The Tico armies were already there, and when the Icelandic forces came we had to retreat. Our sources now claim that two fifths of the Ticos are in China, two fifths more controlling Japan, and the remaining fifth actually standing guard in Costa Rica."

America's voice was faint. "There _has_ to be some news that I can stand."

Taiwan nodded, placing two photos down on the table. "My spy… when he was captured… he managed to get… these pictures."

They were both of a single hand, left hands. They were both small hands with slender, graceful fingers. One was pale, the other rich and warm.

And they wore matching rings.

His eyes widened, anger burning in them. "What the hell – you can't be serious!" "We are serious," Im Yong Soo stated, nodding. "The news just came out: the Centro-Míngxīng Pact." He issued him a paper from his clothes.

America read through it quickly. "Centro-Míngxīng Pact… the 'Central-Star' Pact… combines the forces of Costa Rica, country representing Central America in World War Three… with the forces of China. That's – that's why the country's been crawling with her soldiers! They – they formed a treaty?"

"Appears so."

America grabbed his phone, quickly dialing a number. "What are you doing?" Taiwan asked anxiously. "You can't just break up a treaty that isn't in your control!"

"I'm not going to fucking break it up, but I'm going to get some fucking answers!"

…

Something warm was poured over his face, and he stirred slightly. An alarmed, feminine voice greeted his ears.

"Dama Madrigal, que está despierto! Date prisa, por favor, que está despierto!"

Damn. This would be one of those times he wished he knew Spanish.

Rosa nodded to Camilla, leaving briskly as she walked in. She sat on the side of the bath, glancing at her charge.

"I see you're awake. Welcome to Costa Rica. Surprised to be here?"

Kiku shook his head, trying to clear it. He sat up straighter, noting how he was obviously at her mercy – for God's sake; he was naked and alone in her country! His face bloomed scarlet at the shame.

"…Why didn't you kill me? Why am I… here?"

Her voice turned uncharacteristically sour and dark. "I brought you back. I couldn't kill you. Yao practically begged me not to."

His blood froze to ice at that, eyes focusing on the frothy, warm, bathwater. His arm was tingly where he had been shot. "Then I am…" "My… our… prisoner? Yes. You are now a prisoner of the Preservation Bond. Congratulations."

She sighed, looking back at the door, and held out her hand. "Get up. I want to tell you something."

He awkwardly took the offered hand, standing in the tub. A second later they were facing each other; she dressed in a long beach dress, hair down, him standing there in his own skin, dripping.

She crossed her arms, face blank but for authority. Her voice was cold. "¡Al suelo."

He did not have to know the language to understand. He lowered himself to his knees, bowing to her on the floor. He kissed the ground in front of her, closing his eyes.

"Here I see weakness." Her voice scoffed, sounding disgusted. "You present yourself before your savior, one who has shown mercy to you, in nothing but your own skin. You are putrid. Taking out a dying man while he is down… despicable."

He then felt two soft, gentle hands grabbing his own, bringing them together. He raised his head, his brown eyes searching her brown eyes questioningly.

She smiled, shaking her head slightly, sadly. She suddenly looked a lot more like herself. Her voice was soft, familiar now on his ears.

"Listen to me. Costa Rica now runs Japan, Japan is under Costa Rica's custody as Costa Rica remedies China. Japan and Costa Rica are not friendly towards each other, but hostile instead. That was Costa Rica's behavior towards Japan. Miss Madrigal and Mister Honda are merely associates of business. They have no opinion of each other but what they can gain from them. But I tell you this: Camilla and Kiku are friends. They help each other up when they fall down. They both care about Yao, and both want to help people. Kiku, I'm giving you this one chance as Camilla. Act like the person I _know_ you are, the polite, loyal, no-touch fanboy that you portray so well. I'm giving you one chance. The second you cross the line, I throw you into the cellar and become Costa Rica again, who will do anything to hold down Japan.

"Costa Rica gave mercy to Japan and is now controlling it. Camilla's the one that dressed the wounds that she herself gave you, Kiku. She's the one that wanted you cleansed and fed."

Shocked, he took his hands from hers, and brought them to his face. He shook with bitter, painful tears. He felt warm arms wrap around him, one reaching up to stroke his hair and the other gently pulling him to her chest, rubbing his back. They stayed like that for a long time.

Taking a deep breath, head resting on her chest, he asked "Why… why would you do this, though? A… prisoner would not be kept in the house…"

Her voice had a hint of amusement. "Well, I made a deal. You stay here and in exchange act more like a servant than anything else, helping out around the house. I have several guards and soldiers here in case you attempt to make a move on me, Yao, or Rosa after all. Kiku, I've never fought in a real war before. I'm inexperienced. Either way, it turns out I'm pretty good at it."

She pulled him up, giving him a towel. "Now come. You may want some clothes." He blushed furiously, remembering again his predicament. "…Thank you… Camilla."

After finding him some suitable garments, a voice came from the other room. "Lady Madrigal, please come here! Something's wrong with Yao!"

Camilla's head turned sharply. "What do you mean?"

Rosa appeared in the doorway, looking slightly frantic. "I don't know, but he's trembling and his condition has plummeted! Please, I don't know what to do!"

Gesturing that Kiku was to follow her, she nodded at the woman. "Thank you for telling me, Rosa. Could you go out and ask the guards if there has been any news?" The blonde agreed to briskly and sped away.

Kiku followed Camilla to a larger set of doors, and she opened them. He didn't know why she was making him follow her…

He didn't want to face him.

…

Rosa Forte walked down to the head guard. Upon asking for news of sorts, he gave her a few sheets of paper, a quick explanation, and a letter.

"Now… I don't know what the letter is, but it's from the Passive-Fight Union and it's marked 'urgent'. Get it to Madrigal as soon as you possibly can." Rosa nodded, making her way back to the stairs.

_Urgent…_ she thought to herself. _The only letters ever marked this way are from the leader… America._

...

**AN: Hope you enjoyed! R&R!**


	3. Chapter 3: Getting Worse

**AN: All translations can from Google Translate, so pardon if they are wrong. Along with anything else that may be wrong. Also: Countries can die in this story. They fall into a coma and wake up later on, depending on who they are.**

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my character Camilla Madrigal. I am poor, do not sue me, you'll get nothing.

...

One of his hands clutched his stomach as the other gripped the bucket, retching into it as tears stung his foggy eyes. The reaction was immediate.

"Oh, Dios mío, Yao! ¿Qué demonios ha pasado?" Costa Rica rushed to the bed, pulling herself up behind the Chinese man. She carefully moved his loose hair away with one hand, the other rubbing gentle circles in his back.

Kiku stood frozen in the doorway. He had no idea what to do – or if it was his place to do anything at all. He felt as if his head had exploded. There were voices arguing in his mind. But they were all… his voice.

_Perfect, he's down again. Now if only some of the others would come out and take down his country… he'd be easy to defeat. One clean shot from here and he'd be dead. We'd get her too, with her distraction._

_What have we done! How did this put him in so much – so much agony? It's hard to watch the pain bleed across his face… How could we have been so foolish, so cruel to do this – when we know how much pain it can be! America and I have both been bombed before, this – this is far worse… it shouldn't… it wasn't meant to be this bad…_

_Good, let him suffer, let them all suffer through this war… they need to be brought down. They have no respect as countries. To think harmony would get them as far as this – there are things that will always be fought over! They got themselves into this; now see if they can get out!_

_Is he strong enough to pass this by…? Are… are any of them? Most of them… not all… are considered weak countries… but… this… This isn't an ordinary attack…_

_This shall show them that this isn't just a fight, this is war! Idiots, did they think this wasn't what they had signed up for!_

_Kami, this… is horrible… Didn't I learn with Pearl Harbor?_

_We shall gain immensely from this._

_…I'm so sorry, Yao._

Unaware to the lone one's inner struggles, Camilla gently pulled Yao back so that he was in her lap, flushed and panting. She smoothed his hair, eyebrows creased.

_That's not normal. That's really, really not normal. That's not bile… it's black and bubbling… what the hell could have caused that…?_

She wiped his mouth softly with a cloth, eyes flickering up to the other in the doorway. Her attention returned to the one in her arms at the faintest sound of his voice.

"Qǐng... Shuǐ..." Her voice was patient and low in reply. "Yao, cariño, you know I can't understand Chinese. What do you need?"

"W-water…" "Of course." She took the glass that had been placed earlier on the bedside table, bringing it carefully to his lips. He could only take a few sips before he stopped drinking altogether, ending with her placing the glass back down.

Breathing hard, head nestled on her shoulder, he whispered something else, amber eyes dull. "It hurts… It hurts so much…"

"I know, cariño, I know." She pressed an affable kiss to his forehead – which only shot alarm visibly into her eyes. _He has a fever… I swear to Dios he didn't have a fever when we got back… and he's shaking so hard…_

Rosa then chose that time to enter the room, standing awkwardly next to the still unsure Japan. "Dama Madrigal, I… there was news…"

She walked closer, standing next to the bed, also removing the bucket to the floor. "…Bad news. It seems that a Korean warship just destroyed a few ships along the coast of China… which resulted in a massive oil spill. The oil and other contaminants have made their way into the water system of the country… along with other debris from the bombing by the Japanese jets, which are still continuing, though less frequently. Most of the water in China has now been tainted, and the drinking supply for citizens and soldiers – and wounded – alike is very, very low."

"Then send some over!" Camilla snapped back, terrified at the news. _That's the black sludge he was trying to rid himself of… oil._

Rosa seemed startled by her reply, her voice dropping. "Pero ... tenemos ya menos agua limpia de lo que necesitamos aquí en Costa Rica. Si enviamos algunos más ... entonces ... podemos agotar nosotros mismos."

Her reply was just as quick and fiery as the last. "I don't give a damn! Ask other Central American countries for some, if you say it's from me then they will help! China is our main priority right now; we cannot lose such a powerful country!"

Rosa nodded, quieter. "Yes… of course, my lady. Also, there was a letter from the Passive-Fight Union. It's from America, it says 'urgent'." "I'll read it later."

Japan was even more shocked, standing there. A letter? What was it about? He knew better than to think it was about arranging his release, but it certainly _was_ an option.

Rosa's voice was timid and soft. "…Dama Madrigal… it is getting very late. The stars have risen. You and señor Wang should sleep, you both need it. I can take the prisoner to his quarters."

Costa Rica's voice was equally quiet. "Thank you, Rosa. It's been a hard day for all of us."

She gently laid the now unconscious China back down on the right of the bed, and slipped off. She went to a drawer, pulling off her own dress and held up a nightgown, looking over. "…Now, Rosa. No hay ninguna razón para Kiku verme sin mi sostén, esto ya es más carne de lo que se sienta cómodo."

Rosa jumped, grabbing Japan by the wrist. "Of course, my lady."

She pulled him out of the room, just in time for him to see her slip on the nightclothes and climbing into the other side of the bed, holding Yao close to her as if afraid he would suddenly disappear.

...

**AN: Hope you enjoyed! R&R! I'm sorry that I don't have translations.**


	4. Chapter 4: Confrontation

**AN: All translations can from Google Translate, so pardon if they are wrong. Along with anything else that may be wrong. Also: Countries can die in this story. They fall into a coma and wake up later on, depending on who they are.**

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my character Camilla Madrigal. I am poor, do not sue me, you'll get nothing.

...

_Costa Rica:_

_Northern border, one week, noon. I'll be alone. No arms._

_-America._

…

She nodded to herself, standing outside of the room. She knew that something was up. Agreeing to be in her country… was his way of trying to persuade her to come. So that she wasn't far from home, didn't feel threatened. Well, she was here now.

She opened the door, walking in. Almost immediately, large, strong arms were wrapped around her, pulling her forcefully to the other's body. Tough, familiar lips smashed against her softer, gentler ones, going quickly into a passionate kiss. She felt one hand dip to her waist, another going up to hold her head.

She enjoyed this sense of familiarity for about three seconds before coming to her senses. Her fist connected with the person's face, effectively removing her assailant from her.

Face bright red and ashamed, she glared at the floor. "Hola, America." He grabbed her wrists, turning her back to him, hurt blue eyes searching for an answer.

"It's true, isn't it?" "What's true?"

His voice was suddenly full of anger. "The Centro-Míngxīng Pact! You've got to be fucking kidding me, Costa! You seriously married _China_?"

Furious herself, she wrenched herself away. "Don't touch me!" she wrapped her arms around herself, "What the hell is your problem? Is _that_ what this meeting was about! Because for your information, I should be back there! It took a day to get out here, and I have to stay here a day, and I'll be late home tomorrow! I should be back at my house, nursing _him_ back to health! Dios, I thought this would be about something typical! Like, I don't know, arranging Japan's release! A paper to stop the bombings of Beijing! Something _helpful_! It's not your place to be inquiring about _treaties_!"

He suddenly cornered her, pressing her up against the wall, hand on either side of her. His eyes turned dark, his voice near murderous.

"Say it, say it out loud _Camilla_: You married Yao." Her voice, hurt and angry, replied "Yes. I _married Yao._"

A growl. "Do you fucking love him? Do you love him _half_ as much as you loved me!?"

Her eyes softened, startled. She felt as if she had been slapped. Tears stinging her eyes, she kept her voice desperately calm.

"I'll try to explain this in a way that won't make me _strangle _you. China and Costa Rica love each other and desperately need to support each other. That's our _people_, America! We represent our damn people! My citizens feel incredible bonds with those of China, due to our partnership in the war! His citizens are grateful for mine, and praise them for their help out loud! Our citizens love each other, so Costa Rica and China _do_! I'll admit I feel that!" Her voice rose louder, almost dangerously. "But dammit, I am _Camilla_ too, and Camilla loves Alfred! I haven't… I haven't forgotten that… Don't you _dare_ accuse me of my own feelings… what the fuck is wrong with you, I still love you… I love _Alfred_, but _America's_ being a complete ass… Camilla is Yao's good friend, and nothing more… I will _never_ forget…"

She sunk against the wall, hands covering her tear-stained face. Watching her small body rack itself with sobs absolutely broke Alfred's heart.

"Hey… hey… whoa, don't… please don't cry… I'm…" he kneeled, at a loss, and tried to pry away her hands. She just cried harder.

The door shot open with a _bang_. Alfred looked over, startled, to find himself looking down the barrel of a gun.

A gun that was being held by his own brother, Canada.

"M-Mattie…?" he whispered, horrified. The Canadian stood stiffly, eyes cold, hair pulled back into a tuft of a ponytail. There was a long, bloody gash that traced from his right cheekbone down to his chin and across his neck to his left shoulder blade. It was openly bleeding.

"Leave her alone, America." Holding his hands up, he stepped away. "You didn't really think that she'd come here alone, did you?"

Canada took Costa Rica's hand, pulling her up and standing in front of her. That's when America noticed the gold band on _his_ hand.

His voice turned dark again. "You _too_? …Who?"

"Iceland," he said shortly. "Nord Vindur Treaty. Common knowledge by now, aren't you keeping up? That's what Austria _does_, America. He's married each of us off, including himself. That way we can form stronger partnerships and rely heavily on a solitary ally primarily. If our 'spouse' fails, then the rest of us swoop in. We're a team, but we're like little sections. Even the Dominance Forcers United knows that…"

An awkward silence fell, with only the sounds of heavy breathing and Costa Rica's attempts to calm down being heard.

It was so hushed that Canada had to assume he had heard it.

"Canada… what happened to your face? It looks… fresh."

Matthew flinched, and Camilla grabbed his hand. She looked at it too, worried, her other hand tracing it. "That wasn't there when I met you outside."

His voice was bitter and anguished, eyes shadowed. "Rogue attack, I just got the call. Twenty American soldiers hopped the border and took out two hundred of my people. Innocent townsfolk. And still… all twenty escaped…"

"Canada, I didn't – I didn't know about that!" "It doesn't matter." His voice was dangerously soft.

"Come on Camilla, we're going." He left, pulling her along.

Neither of them looked back.

...

**AN: Hope you enjoyed! R&R! I'm sorry that I don't have translations.**


	5. Chapter 5: Symptoms

**AN: All translations can from Google Translate, so pardon if they are wrong.**

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my character Camilla Madrigal. I am poor, do not sue me, you'll get nothing.

...

The trip back was longer than she had anticipated.

"Mi dama que nos han llegado. Despierta."

She stirred, collecting her things from the car. It was about… nine in the morning? Yes, she nodded to herself. They had been driving all night.

She walked in, dropping her suitcase by the door and walked to the kitchen. At the table sat Japan, looking at his hands. Rosa was talking animatedly to one of the guards in Spanish.

"Whoa, disminuya la velocidad, lo que está pasando?" Rosa looked over, startled at Camilla's voice.

She slowed down, hesitant. "It's…" "Por el amor de Dios, has he gotten worse!"

She nodded, looking back at the floor. "He has… Since you left he's refused to drink any water. The water that we manage to get past his lips is coughed back up, sometimes with specks of blood and oil. His fever's much higher… And he can no longer walk. There are burns, and he's coughing a lot, sometimes there's even smoke omitted when he does… and his shaking… is much worse. He's been crying for you, begging for you. But what's a little more than alarming…"

She turned around, pulling out two gallon-sized milk jugs full of a dark, thick liquid. Costa Rica's heart fell. "You've got to be kidding. He's… he's purged himself of two _gallons_ of oil? But he's… he's smaller than _I _am, he must have been sick a _lot_ to rid him of that quantity…"

"It's… it's not just oil." Rosa said quietly. "That's why we kept it. We decided to collect it because we were wondering if it really was oil or if it was also mixed with bile or the like… It turns out a quart's worth of this – one eighth – is blood. The oil hides it."

"That's not good…" Camilla breathed. Kiku still wouldn't look up.

Costa Rica then turned slightly, bringing out her phone. "This has gone far enough. We have to do something to help him. Rosa, do you know if I can contact Médico Xing…?"

Rosa shook her head. "We don't know if he's alive. We've had no contact with him, and surely if he was able he'd call to see if something had happened." "Point."

Camilla sighed, scrolling through her contacts. "I'll call my médico then. Señora Daniella."

…

"Hola, Camilla. Lo que parece ser el problema, hoy? Sonabas tipo de prisa. ¿Tiene algo que ver con la guerra?"

Daniella was Costa Rica's personal doctor, and well educated in their problems. She was a thirty year old woman with dark red hair and a kind face.

Camilla in return gave a weak smile from where she sat next to China on the bed. She had him carefully raised so that the pillows propped him up into a near-full sitting position. He was only wearing boxers, the rest of his body exposed, hair loose and limp.

"I suppose you could say that. Pero entonces, supongo que se puede decir que yo no soy el problema. Usted lee los papeles que te di, después de todo." "Yes, that's a good point."

Daniella sat at the edge of the bed, quickly observing the two watching her. "So then, you must be Señor Wang? Yao Wang, of the Republic of China?" A slow nod. "Ah, bueno. If you don't mind, I think I'll call you Yao."

She put a hand to his face, thumbing his flushed cheek, looking deeply into the hazy amber eyes. "Dilatada e inyectados en sangre, sin embargo, veo que ha estado recibiendo descansar tanto como sea posible." He flinched at the cool touch, fear coming into his eyes, not understanding. Camilla squeezed his hand gently.

Daniella ran a hand down Yao's arms and legs. There were nasty looking red patches that begged to be bandaged. "Doloroso." Daniella reached into a small kit she had with her and did just that.

She gently pushed a thermometer into his mouth before going to take his blood pressure, later pressing the cold tip of her stethoscope against his pale, scarred, and heavily bandaged chest. She wrote a few things down on a pad of paper.

After taking the thermometer back, and writing down something else, the coughing fit began. He doubled over, hacking viciously, red and black spotting on the hand covering his mouth. Alarmed, Camilla wrapped her arms around him, holding him comfortingly as smoke started wafting from his lips.

Daniella's eyes narrowed, and she quickly jotted down something else. After waiting a few minutes for the fit to subside, she also took notice that he seemingly refused to let go of Daniella's typical charge.

She cleared her throat. "Alright. Thank you for letting me see you, Yao." She pulled a bottle of pills from the kit, nodding slightly to herself before placing them on the table.

"Now, Camilla, I normally look after you. These should help to lessen the symptoms and dull the pain, though I'm not completely sure how much he would take. He's a bit smaller than you, but more muscle, so I think it's safe to assume that he'd take the same amount as you. Now Camilla, if you could step out for a minute…"

"N-No…" Surprised, the women looked at the shaking man who clung to Camilla tightly. "Bùyào líkāi wǒ... Qǐng bùyào líkāi wǒ..."

Stroking his hair gently, Camilla nodded. "Alright, shush. I won't leave. Shh, it's alright."

Understanding, Daniella waited for a few minutes before Yao drifted to sleep again. She let out a deep sigh.

"I didn't want him to hear, I wasn't sure if he'd react well." "Unfortunately, we're countries… we wouldn't be all that surprised."

Comprehending, Daniella flipped through her notes and the papers she had been given. "I think I've matched up everything that's going on. You say he's been vomiting large quantities of… oil and blood. Well, that of course is related to the oil tainting his waterways and the blood is either a general negative reaction or it's the spilt blood of his people. You're going to have to hope that it will get better as the waterways are cleaned – and before you say no one's on that, you're wrong. The Icelandic forces that helped fight off the other Asians stayed behind. They're helping your soldiers fix the country."

"Recuérdame que Emil dar un beso la próxima vez que lo vea." Daniella chuckled at the remark. "Sí, I will. You also said that he is having issues when it comes to drinking…? Well, that's because of the water as well. He's dehydrating himself against his own will; his body can no longer take in the water. If you keep trying, he will drink eventually." "That's good. It's kind of important to drink."

Daniella nodded, looking back at the notes again. "Alright. He has a fever of one hundred and five point three… which is admittedly dangerously high. That's reason enough to take a human to the hospital, though, you aren't humans. If it reaches one hundred fifteen, get some serious help. This, along with the rather horrible burns along his arms and legs… these are from the bombs, and the fires that they caused. Now the coughing… that was worrisome. His lungs, I see, have taken on the qualities and temperamental attributes of a smoker's. Be easy, there. His breathing can be disturbed easily, it's because of the smoke and air pollution caused by those bombs. I suggest that you do not allow him to attempt walking. Between his physical wounds, which would cause him extreme pain, and his low tolerance for physical activity with his breathing, he would not be able to bear it. His high blood pressure and accelerated heart rate too… combined with his deeper irrational fears and attachment to you… may be related back to the panic his citizens are currently feeling – their desperation that lies on your own. He's in a state of panic. That's the same with the trembling, which is also partially caused by the shifting debris."

"Isn't there anything that you can do to help him further? Surely the medicine won't just make it magically disappear," Costa Rica said worriedly. Daniella shook her head. "Lo siento. There are only so many things that I can do when the illness is related to your land and people. I am glad you called, though."

Daniella then grabbed her bag, leaving the two. Closing the door behind her, she turned and jumped, seeing the small man before her, looking sheepish.

"…You are the country of Japan. Our enemy. Were you listening?" Knowing he could not avoid the question, Kiku nodded. "Yes… I am. To all three. I just… I can't believe how much harm came from this."

"Believe it." Daniella put coolly, dismissing the matter. She turned and left.

Kiku looked at the closed doors with a sense of sadness.

"Watashi wa kaibutsuda."

...

**AN: Hope you enjoyed! R&R!**


	6. Chapter 6: Arabella Russo

**AN: All translations can from Google Translate, so pardon if they are wrong.**

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my character Camilla Madrigal. I am poor, do not sue me, you'll get nothing.

...

Germany sighed. He absolutely hated being shut up in his own house, alone. Normally there'd at least be the sound of his brother typing up a blog entry, or the sound of pasta boiling over in the kitchen. Yes, this was supremely boring. Depressing, even.

That's when there was a knock at the door. Germany was surprised, it was raining out – who was it?

He went over, opening it. He couldn't make out the person in the storm, only that it was _definitely_ female.

A sultry voice punctuated by a _very_ familiar accent floated in. "Do you mind if I come in? It's a little wet out here…"

Stunned, he moved to the side, watching as she walked in. She had a very round bosom and full hips, her makeup subtle yet powerful.

Her skin was warm and yet not dark, her hair a deep shade of brown. It was straight, and flowed elegantly to her waist. Her eyes were a pretty hazel color, and held herself gracefully.

She wore a red pencil skirt and a black blouse, a crimson jacket over it. She also wore black stiletto heels, and a chic feminine hat with a black rose stemmed into it, with a ruffled purse on her arm.

She turned slightly with a daring smile. "Are you just going to stand there?"

He jumped slightly. "Oh… ah… who are you?" "Not going to let a poor woman rest for a second, are you? Alright."

She brushed a hand down her hair. "I was working in a bar down in Italia when this Spanish man came to me, said he was named Antonio. Said he had a friend that could use some cheering up, but was specifically looking for an Italian. I gave him my card. Called me a while later, said my new clientele was a 'Ludwig Beilschmidt'. Now, normally I'll take any customer, but being employed for a German while in the midst of World War Three? It cost him extra. Must be pretty close if he was that desperate."

Germany was horribly confused, piecing it together slowly. He first realized she had strictly used their human names – she had no idea they were countries. He wanted to leave it that way.

"I'm sorry but… he's not that close a friend of mine." "But see – you know him. Therefore, I stay."

It was obvious there would be no budging her, so he gave up on that matter. There wasn't even a shadow of a doubt in his mind that he wouldn't care… he decided as he looked her up and down again.

"So," she said, Italian accent floating lightly as she sat down on the couch, "why exactly was he so adamant about an Italian? Sounded as if he had been looking for a while. Was there another? Are they gone now?"

His mouth went dry as she peered at him. He found himself suddenly sitting next to her. How had he moved, he didn't remember moving? Something about her just pulled him closer.

"Ja… let's say there was another," he said slowly. "An Italian?" he nodded in response.

"I see," she nodded herself, looking thoughtful. "That's why. Oh, and you asked my name. Arabella Russo."

Her eyes softened slightly, as if realizing something. "Tesoro, you look upset. Can I make it better?" Her slender arms wrapped around his neck slightly leaning in to press her forehead to his.

He looked away, not completely unhappy with the gesture. "No… you can't. I'm afraid I… liebe ihn immer noch."

"Oh, I get it." Her lovely voice was soft. "You're a soldier, aren't you? So is your little Italian. This war has taken you two apart." "You could… say that."

"Well," she leaned back, fishing in her purse for something, "I'll see if I can help. Here's my number." She gave him the card, standing to leave.

He caught her arm, turning to look at her again. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I'll call."

The next thing that he was aware of, were smooth, spicy tasting lips pressing against his own.

"Oh, trust me, you will."

...

**AN: Well this is getting interesting...**


	7. Chapter 7: Nordics

**AN: All translations can from Google Translate, so pardon if they are wrong.**

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my character Camilla Madrigal. I am poor, do not sue me, you'll get nothing.

...

A repetitive noise could be heard outside of the walls of the brick house. Looking up from the fire, reaching for his gun, Emil stood to investigate.

The sound of marching could be heard. Looking out of his window, he recognized the soldiers marching: They were of Norway and Finland.

That's when he heard heavier marching. He turned, bewildered, and ran to the back of his house, looking out. He went paler than usual. Those were the soldiers of Denmark and Sweden.

They were all here, in Iceland. What was going to–

The sound of open gunfire was coupled with a sudden burst of pain. They had – they had _all _opened fire on the soldiers that must have come to see what was going on! He felt blood trickling down his arm and he flinched, grabbing the spot tightly, hoping to ease the blood flow.

He quickly grabbed his gun and ran out of the house, ignoring the now warm liquid already dripping down his arm and leg. He ran out, to the edge of the battle.

It was freezing, but he knew that. His soldiers were fighting hard, but they weren't ready for a four-on-one invasion. How come the other two forces were acting as one!

Everything stopped for a second when he felt a bullet collide with his back. He fell to his knees, hands hitting the cold ground, as coughing racked his body, blood spurting from his mouth and adding color to the landscape around him. He shook with the pain, fighting unconsciousness.

While having his own battle with himself, he did not notice the noises growing quieter around him. When he was next able, he looked up to the blurry area around him – to see two people standing to his left, and two to his right, four guns pointing at him.

He turned to the left, looking into Norway's eyes desperately. "Vinsamlegast ekki skjóta mig... þú getur ekki... vinsamlegast, bróðir..." Norway flinched, grip tightening.

Iceland couldn't stand it much longer. He heard the commands: "Klar!" twice, one on each side. And then, just as he thought it was over – the sound of hooves.

And the sound of a very, _very_ pissed off Canadian.

"Stand down, or we'll blow you to the sky!" Canada growled, a splinter army following him on horseback. Each of the mounted soldiers hand a gun pointed at one of the Nordics, excepting Emil. Slowly, Lukas and Tino disengaged. Mathias and Berwald, however, did not.

"Trois!" They didn't move.

"Deux!" Sweden slowly, annoyed, lowered his gun.

"Un, bon sang!" Matthew shouted harshly. His blue eyes were covered in formality and anger to hide his hatred and fear of this war. A long bandage covered the wound he had gotten from America's secret twenty-person invasion earlier.

Noting the Canadian country's heavy breathing and stiff demeanor, the Dane sighed. Denmark lowered his gun, and Iceland felt a breath of relief grasp him. His vision kept fading in and out to black, and he wasn't sure he'd be able to stay awake much longer…

He felt a nimble hand grip him gently, and suddenly he was being pulled up. He was leaning against a much taller man; he realized Matthew had pulled him up onto the horse. Matthew kept one hand holding the reins, the other holding the Icelander to him carefully, making sure he was secure and would not fall if he passed out.

Canada's voice became fuzzy in his ears. "Disgusting, the four of you teaming up to take out the lone Nordic. And to think you call yourselves a family. Don't make me laugh. The Icelandic forces have been forced into retreat, but I can promise you that my own soldiers will massacre yours if you do not do so as well."

The voice then fell silent to Emil's ears, eyes sliding shut as a heavy and dull feeling of pain and exhaustion overtook him. The last thing he was aware of was the movement of the horse and Matt's tight arm on him as they left.

And then there was nothing.

...

**AN: Please R&R!**


	8. Chapter 8: A Nation's Best Friend

**AN: All translations can from Google Translate, so pardon if they are wrong.**

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my character Camilla Madrigal. I am poor, do not sue me, you'll get nothing.

...

Kiku woke up to the sound of peace and quiet – this was a good sign to him. Sometimes he would awake to the sounds of vomiting or sobbing, or to the sound of a cry of pain. There was also the time that Costa Rica's feisty Ocelot, Reina, had been standing on top of him, growling at him. That had been terrifying.

But no, this was nice. That's when a birdsong floated to his ears – he turned his head drowsily to see the Yigüirro, Markita, singing. Of all of Camilla's pets, he liked her the most. He didn't have to be afraid of Markita.

He sat up and went about changing, all the while the yellow-brown bird chirping melodically. It _was_ a nice morning. He had spent almost a month in Costa Rica, and he had to admit it was nice here. It was very hot but the house was air-conditioned, and the five-minute sudden thunderstorms were soothing to the Japanese man. Of course, there was a time when a storm didn't last five minutes, but three hours. During that time Camilla had disappeared, and when walking past a closet door he heard the distinct sound of sobbing and the assistant – Rosa, was it? – offering what seemed like comforting Spanish.

His heart had sunk then, sympathetically. He had heard rumors that the Tico was not fond of storms, which had surprised him seeing how erratic her country's weather already was. This was the only proof he needed.

He left the room, now used to the guards waiting outside the door. They followed Kiku everywhere, always erect and ready to fire instantly if need be. The two young men were not named, but said that he could call them 'sir' if he wanted. Kiku had not been amused. He walked to the kitchen, where a meager breakfast of Gallo Pinto – black beans and rice – was waiting for him. Rosa was also there, finishing her own breakfast.

"Buenos días, Honda." She uttered blandly. He nodded, picking at the food – but he was not rude, and he did eat it. The rice was not bad anyhow, and he had been fed Gallo Pinto enough times now to become used to the beans.

"…Where's Camilla? It seems rather quiet." "Oh. She's on business. She's out talking to some of the generals." "Then… what about Yao?"

Rosa stiffened. "He's still asleep. He seems to be doing a little better, actually. The oil's growing less and he's willing to drink more water. The other symptoms seem to be continuing but – oh, that reminds me. Do you think you could take a glass of water up to him? Just in and out, real easy. I have some papers to file." She placed the cup in front of him, not really giving him any room to object. He sighed, taking it.

"Alright, I'll do it." "Gracias, Honda."

He walked back up the stairs, the guards following him routinely. He paused outside the door, where a large, red lizard lay in wait. He hesitated, nervous. "Fernando…"

The Iguana hissed in a hostile manner, flicking his tail. Obviously it had picked up the moods directed at Kiku from his mistress, for though it was not happy at seeing him – it still slowly crawled away. He gently pushed into the dark room.

He ambled through, making sure not to trip on any stray object. He reached the bed, placing the glass on the table. He looked softly at his once aniki's face in the shadows. It looked… peaceful, like the morning had been. Kiku let out a slight breath of relief, a tiny smile gracing his face. That was pleasant.

Every time he had seen China, he had either been asleep or nearly delirious, and hadn't noticed him. Either way, he had almost always been distressed or in pain, tears glazing his honey-brown eyes.

Kiku let a soft chuckle slip past his lips as he watched him. "Oh, Yao…" he said, voice quiet, "I see where Taiwan got her long, beautiful dark hair. Sure, yours isn't quite as long, but still…" He made a move to brush the locks from his face, but was interrupted by a low growl.

He looked over, confused. Was that stuffed panda… Oh, no, it wasn't that. Cuddling with the panda toy slightly, one limb draped protectively over Yao's arm, was the Ocelot. Her golden eyes narrowed dangerously at Japan, tail flicking in a perilous manner. He was not welcome. Like Fernando, Reina had picked up her mistress's manner of dealing with people.

Japan leveled his stare with the large, wild cat, trying to look as harmless as possible. He wanted his stare to say 'Don't worry, I'm not going to do anything, I'd be stupid to even try with the soldiers in here watching'. Understandingly, Reina placed her head back down on the bear, continuing to watch him. Kiku sighed. This was as good as permission as he was going to get.

He brushed the bangs away, letting his fingertips slide along the scarlet cheeks. He frowned at the heat. His fever had not gone down at all.

His fingers worked down and both hands gently held the hand _not_ possessed by Reina. He ran his fingers over the smooth hand, suddenly questioning everything he had ever done to him.

"I mean… look at us. Such a sad story we share, with me as the main antagonist. I can't believe how foolish… how _horrible_ I've been. The bombs, what were they thinking? And by they… I mean my boss, and America. Dammit, America…" he said quietly, angrily. He squeezed the hand gently in his.

"We've both been bombed, and by _each other_. Of course, the bombs _I _used on Pearl Harbor were about the same caliber as the ones I… dropped on you. Watashi wa bakudan, Yao ni tsuite totemo, totemo zan'nendesu. Watashi wa watashi ga yatta koto ga kirai. Sore waatte mo, sensō no tame ni, machigatte ita. Bakudan wa totemo hakai-tekidearu... My actions have always been unforgivable when it comes to war, and yet… and yet…"

He stopped there, eyes stinging with regret. He shook his head, drooping slightly in shame.

"And yet…?" A barely audible, questioning voice rose to his ears. Startled, he looked up to see the coffee brown eyes looking at him deeply – as if he could read his soul.

"Ah, Yao I…" his voice died again, suddenly mortified. China gave him a concerned glance. "I'm… glad to see she listened." His whisper was caught by Kiku's ears.

"You mean Camilla, when you asked her to… yes, she listened. And she's not here, but don't worry. It seems you're in good care." He nodded at Reina, who was still watching them.

With a slight smile, Yao removed his arm from under her, reaching up to lightly scratch behind her ear. Reina purred, tail curling happily. She nuzzled his hand back.

"She really likes you." "Yes, I know," Yao said, lips curving into a grin. "I would come here often before the war, Camilla and I being friends. She got used to me. She's gotten very friendly since the war started."

"Oh…" Japan murmured, thinking. "Miss Rosa told me to bring you water. Are you thirsty?" "Y-Yes, actually… although I'll admit, I'd rather tea."

_I'll admit that it is a rather comforting that he wishes for tea, that's like him,_ Japan mused. _Though water is still better for him... He… needs to stay hydrated._

Watching the man's shaking hands grip the glass weakly, Kiku took it from him. _He's still so weak… _"Don't strain yourself, please, Yao. I don't think I would know what to do if my actions led to what killed you."

"…Kiku, I know war very well… I know what it can do to people… I don't… I don't like your actions, but… I know we can't always… help them."

Relief flooded Japan's chest. "Here… let me help." Gently inserting an arm behind his back, he helped to lift Yao into a sitting position. That movement alone seemed to wind him. Japan tentatively brought the cup to his lips, allowing China to drink briefly.

Suddenly Reina's ears perked up, and she gracefully scampered from the bed to the doorway. After placing the glass back on the table and assisting Yao back down as well, Kiku looked over.

Crouching there, stroking Reina's head was Camilla. She picked the large, fluffy Ocelot up, looking over at the two Asians with an amused smile.

"You're awake, I see," she said, smiling. "and you're both feeling rather sane, that's nice as well." "You're back," Kiku replied hesitantly.

Camilla nodded, going over and sitting on the bed, legs crossed, Reina in her lap. "I was just going to address plans with my generals, but… we got news…" Yao's eyes shone with worry. "Did something happen?"

She nodded, looking down. "All of the Nordics ganged up on Iceland. He's alright, alive and most certainly in better shape than _you_, but he's still hurt and quite shaken. Canada's with him in Iceland right now. Mateo managed to drive out the other forces, so it's… it's okay."

She seemed very frustrated, though. "I hate what strategies are taking place! It's like; all of the families are ganging up on one person in order to take them out! Like, if Belarus and Russia decided to take out Ukraine! Or hell, we could make like the Nordics and join forces with each other, and get Switzerland, Liechtenstein, Austria, and Prussia to go and kill Germany! I'm worried that the Nordics will do it again, though… I'm _trying_ to hope that the _Asian_ forces won't do it again," she added, glancing at Japan.

"And hopefully," he said softly, nodding, "we won't. That's up to our bosses." "Bosses _suck_," China agreed.

Camilla smiled. "Yeah… They really do. Perhaps when this war's over, we'll show _them_ a thing or two."

...

**AN: Please R&R!**


	9. Chapter 9: Arabella's Return

**AN: All translations can from Google Translate, so pardon if they are wrong.**

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my character Camilla Madrigal. I am poor, do not sue me, you'll get nothing.

...

Germany tapped his foot impatiently. Where was Arabella? She was supposed to have been there five minutes ago, and she was always on time. He grimaced as he thought, he really _had_ grown attached to her… she had been here several times already.

But it was no matter. He and his allies had learned of the 'Tranquillo-Streit' Treaty, the Peaceful-Fight Treaty. Italy had married Lichtenstein… so there was no need for Ludwig anymore.

He glanced out the window only to see someone running quickly. _"Prendi il cazzo lontano da me, bastardo pervertito! È ubriaco-ass mostro!"_

He realized it was Arabella. He stepped outside, watching carefully. She was very fast, even in the crazy heels she wore, and she was being chased. Chased by what looked to be a _very_ intoxicated young man. Germany sighed… this was ridiculous.

But the man was persistent. He reached out, trying to grab her wrist. She, terrified, pulled something out of her purse; spinning – _bang_ – the man fell to the ground.

Ludwig was startled. Firstly – _she kept a gun in her purse? _Was she really that nervous being in an 'enemy land'? Secondly – she was a brilliant shot. Not many people would've been able to make such a shot, soldier or civilian. It was dark and they were running as fast as they could.

She made it to his steps, hardly out of breath. "Oh… ah… you saw that?" she asked, smiling weakly. He nodded, walking inside with her. "Ja, I did. You're a pretty good shot."

She looked extremely happy by his praise. "Really? I am?! That's so _cool_, you see, my father taught me when I was younger. He wanted me to be able to protect myself. And… I'm sorry about having a gun on me; I suppose that's a bit deceitful. It's just, mio fratello knows about my line of work, and he insists that I bring one with me every time."

Ludwig was surprised. "You have a brother?" She nodded, smiling slightly. "Si, I do. I have an older brother and two younger sisters. My brother's in the war, though. A soldier. My youngest sister wants to be, but she's only fifteen and we won't let her yet."

After a while of talking, they both sat at the table, Ludwig drinking beer and Arabella drinking wine. They were already quite a few glasses in.

"So," she asked warmly, giving a flirtatious glance. "What's been going on in the war over here? A big, strong man like you must be doing a _lot_ of work~…"

He smirked, adoring the way she looked at him. "We've been making plans. We're thinking about invading Lichtenstein next week, it's close by…" he gave her a mischievous smile, "Don't tell your older brother about that, will you? It's supposed to be a surprise."

Arabella nodded, grinning, cheeks pink with wine. Of course, however… she was drinking a lot less alcohol than the German man. He had torn through mug after mug after mug of beer; she had only had a couple of small glasses of wine. She was just warm with the effects of it; he was already at least a little drunk.

She glanced at her watch. "Oh my, look at that! How time flies. It's two in the morning, I really _must_ be going." She packed up her belongings and started walking to the door.

"Not _quite_ yet," she felt a large hand wrap around her much smaller wrist, and the next thing she knew she was pulled into a passionate and rough kiss. She didn't mind, and she went with it. She felt one hand go down and pinch her ass, and she jumped slightly at the contact.

Breaking away, she gave a sexy smirk. "Alright you, you've had enough beer this evening. Why don't you go to bed? You'll need all the strength possible if you're going to be attacking Liechtenstein soon."

Seeing him off, she walked out the door. "I wonder how _that_ fight will go," she murmured, adjusting her purse on her arm.

"…He really is in for a lot of trouble."

...

**AN: Oh God, she's back...**


	10. Chapter 10: The First Death

**AN: All translations can from Google Translate, so pardon if they are wrong.**

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my character Camilla Madrigal. I am poor, do not sue me, you'll get nothing.

...

There was no telling just how pissed Germany was. This invasion between himself, Hungary, and Spain was not going well. Liechtenstein was a small country, and yet there were _tons_ of soldiers!

He sat in an abandoned building, some of his own talking rapidly in German among him. One of his leaders came over, sitting across from him.

"Na, dann?" The leader sighed at the question. "Wir waren nicht bereit dafür. Neben den Soldaten von Liechtenstein, hier gibt es auch Schweizer und österreichischen Soldaten, haben wir auch entdeckt einige italienische Dinge zu beachten. Norditalien, denken wir, basierend aus der blauen Uniformen."

Germany nodded, frustrated. "So what do we do now?"

The man pulled out a remote. "Press the button? We may as well blow the country sky high. It will take out a bunch of the armies, too." "Do it."

…

Germany was then deployed after several of the bombs had fallen. He wove through the destroyed city of Liechtenstein, which was in shades of red and gray.

He stepped through an arch, into what could've been a town square. The buildings had all collapsed into the area, and he was alarmed to see at least a hundred corpses. Of course, he couldn't see them fully – an arm, a leg, a head, showing from being buried under rubble. It was hazy; this must've been an area that a bomb had recently been dropped on.

But the blood was staining blue uniforms, the uniforms of North Italians. He felt a sick feeling wallow in the pit of his stomach at the thought. He had just obliterated part of the Italian army. How much pain was Veneziano in…?

That's when he heard a rough sound of a coughing fit. In the distance, a young, lithe figure was pushing itself up off the ground from where it had been covered in stone. It was a man. He leaned heavily against a ruined hunk of building, dark stains on his uniform revealing how injured he was.

He was shaking horribly, blood dripping from visible wounds that had torn through his clothing and were along his neck. Yet still, in his hand, he clutched a gun loosely.

Germany stiffened. If the man realized he was here, then he would shoot at Ludwig. What was one more death, he thought.

_Feliciano's probably in enough pain as it is from so many soldiers being wiped out. If I just kill this one more, it will be practically nothing to him. I can't really make the mann out anyhow, but he's young and slight. He probably isn't a leader, so it should be nothing… and if he sees me he'll shoot. It's not like I have much choice…_

Just as the smoke began to clear, he raised his gun and fired. The soldier whirled at the sound of a gunshot, his big, _beautiful_ brown eyes filling with complete terror as the bullet embedded itself in his chest, in his heart. It was too much.

"Germa–?!"

A cold feeling overcame Germany as he watched blood spurt from his mouth in too large of a quantity, scarlet blooming along his chest as he fell back with the impact, unmoving. Suddenly it clicked.

"Fick! Oh mein Gott verdammter, Italien! Feliciano!"

He ran over, near panicked. He skidded along the ground, kneeling in front of the prone, pale body. His eyes, the eyes that showed every little emotion, were unfocused and hazy, instead of their clear, cheerful brown.

He grabbed his wrist, removing a glove, and checked for a pulse. Nothing came. It became a shock to Germany to realize he was sobbing, thick tears rolling down his cheeks like they never before had.

"Don't you _dare_ fucking do this, Italy! Sie nicht, verdammter _wagen_, Feliciano!" he yelled, ripping the bullet from the other's chest. He wiped the blood from Italy's face.

"Sie haben zu atmen... atmen für mich..." he whispered, heartbroken. Suddenly, in a burst of denial and rage at himself, he started issuing CPR to Feliciano in vain attempt to reverse the irreversible.

"Bitte… Bitte, Feli…" He scooped the small Italian into his lap, holding his now cold body to him. "Es tut mir leid…" he breathed, "I am _so, so_ sorry, Liebling… Bitte... bitte verlass mich nicht... nicht so..." He pressed his lips gently to the other's kissing him softly, dampening the Italian's face with his tears.

"You can't die… you can't…"

Germany froze suddenly. He heard two voices in the distance, one male and one female, which he recognized.

_"This was one of the areas that was bombed!" "Are you sure you're alright, Lili?" "I'm sure, Bruder. Come on, I'm worried – I haven't heard from Veneziano since it started! What if he's hurt?" "He won't be… I'm sure…"_

Carefully depositing the body regretfully back on the ground, Ludwig stood and ran, ran in the opposite direction. He couldn't face Switzerland and Liechtenstein. It would ruin him.

But he stopped abruptly when he came in front of another splinter-group of soldiers. These wore brown, and at their head…

"Che cazzo è successo! Il mio cazzo fratellino è morto, è stato appena ucciso!"

Italy Romano.

He froze, suddenly looking horrified at the German. "You – you _fucking killed him, potato bastard!_" His guns rose in both hands, looking absolutely livid. Germany ducked into another shadowy alley and ran.

But that didn't stop him from hearing the vulgar Italian's voice.

_"I'm going to fucking murder you the next time I see you, dammit!"_

...

**AN: ;_;**


	11. Chapter 11: Fundraiser

**AN: All translations can from Google Translate, so pardon if they are wrong.**

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my character Camilla Madrigal. I am poor, do not sue me, you'll get nothing. I also do not own "21 Guns". I OWN NOTHING OF WORTH.

...

"Fuck no!"

"Lovino, please refrain from that type of speech. I'm your leader, and I think it's our best option."

The distressed Italian slammed his hand down on the table. His eyes were red and he was shaking. "Are you fucking kidding me Roderick?! You want me to fucking go out there and do that!?" "Yes!" "Well, why the fuck me!"

Wrapping an arm around him soothingly, eyes equally red, Camilla spoke shakily. "Lovi, please don't argue… I have to do it too; it's the right thing to do…"

"No, I already said why," Austria said. "You and Camilla match the best. You have the same accent and range, from high to low. You're also both healthy enough to try."

"My fratello fucking _died_ Austria! I'm not doing it!" "You _have_ to!"

His voice was stern and serious. "Lovino, you listen to me. You and Camilla are doing it! We're nearly out of money." "I'm _not_!"

"Without money, we won't be able to help any of the rest of us if we are to be injured. I know you're upset over Feliciano's death, but he would do it if he was in your place."

He could feel his resolve slipping. "Fine… I'll do it. For… Veneziano."

…

Both the Passive-Fight Union and the Dominance Forcers United were having meetings when America and Russia both received a phone call. They said that something odd was going on for a channel on the television.

So they both flicked the televisions on, curious. Was it news? Was one of the others surrendering or leaving the war? Was another nation joining?

Instead, they saw what looked like a small theater. There was a voice on a loudspeaker, not one they recognized.

_"Welcome to our theater tonight ladies and gentlemen, tonight we have two representatives from the Preservation Bond. They are spreading awareness of the war. They would like to say that they have lost many soldiers and fighters... and have started running out of money that is used to offer aid and healing. If at any time you feel privileged to donate to this worth cause, simply call the number shown on the screen."_

The shadowy stage showed nothing. The countries watching shared a glance. Ludwig could barely bring himself to look up as the specific notes of a song started playing.

Suddenly there was one light, and sitting on the stage was someone they had come to know very well: Costa Rica. Though, of course, she was appearing as a human, Camilla Madrigal.

She looked very uncertain before bringing the microphone to her lips. Her voice was slow and fluid as she stood, walking forward.

_"Do you know what's worth fighting for?  
When it's not worth dying for?  
Does it take your breath away and you feel yourself suffocating?"_

She started to pick up steadily with the music, strongly, though her face was kept straight.

_"Does the pain weigh out the pride?  
And you look for a place to hide?  
Did someone break your heart inside, you're in ruins…"_

That was what broke the first of them. Alfred felt as if he was being strangled, it seemed as if she was singing straight to him. He watched as her lips slowly turned into a slight smile, a smile he hadn't seen in far too long.

_"One, twenty-one Guns  
Lay down your arms  
Give up the fight  
One, twenty-one Guns  
Throw up your arms into the sky  
You and I..."_

Then the music picked up a lot more, drums starting to play from an unknown location. Camilla looked back as another light shone. Walking up next to her, emotion unreadable was Lovino Vargas.

But they could understand the way he looked as he started seeing. Haunted, horribly so, as if something was going to spring out of the ground next to him and kill him. Yet, his voice still wove smoothly with hers.

_"When you're at the end of the road  
And you've lost all sense of control  
And your thoughts have taken their toll  
When your mind breaks the spirit of your soul  
Your faith walks on broken glass and the hangover doesn't pass…"_

As the next line started they turned to face each other, both eyes turning sullen with the song. Their voices matched in perfectly, Camilla's coming in to match the higher register.

_"Nothing's ever built to last, you're in ruins…"_

They stood next to each other, looking back at the audience, voices powerful.

_"One, twenty-one Guns  
Lay down your arms  
Give up the fight  
One, twenty-one Guns  
Throw up your arms into the sky  
You and I..."_

It was slightly surprising to the nation watchers. Judging by a sign above their heads, showing money intake – they were raking it in. And that's when the mood changed again.

Camilla walked forwards away from him slightly, now bright with anger. Her music showed that, more strength and accusing fury behind it. She was… crying.

_"Did you try to live on your own?  
When you burned down the house and home?  
Did you stand too close to the fire?  
Like a liar looking for forgiveness from a stone…"_

Now she had turned sad again, voice softer and face streaked with tears. But she had certainly captured attention.

_"When it's time to live and let die  
And you can't get another try  
Something inside this heart has died, you're in ruins…"_

At the last part, she felt an echo behind her, Lovino joining her again. Smiling just slightly to each other, though they both looked in pain, they grasped each-others' hand with their free one.

_"One, twenty-one Guns  
Lay down your arms  
Give up the fight  
One, twenty-one Guns  
Throw up your arms into the sky_  
_One, twenty-one Guns  
Lay down your arms  
Give up the fight  
One, twenty-one Guns  
Throw up your arms into the sky…"_

Their voices softened greatly as the song wound down.

_"You and I…"_

The music stopped slowly and there was a roar of applause. Camilla beamed, and surprisingly, so did Lovino. The money had flooded in, shocking both squads of nations hugely.

But above the roar, there was a single, furious yell. "Čortavy kryvadušniki! Kali vy chočacie pačać sviet, a zatym dalučycca da pasiŭna-zmahacca Sajuzu!"

The Passive-Fight Union members panicked. They had no clue who that was or what they had said. All they knew was that there was a hostile man in that crowd that they obviously weren't controlling.

America stood abruptly. "Shit! Who the hell is that guy! Is he one of us?!" "Ni, he's not!" Ukraine said, looking worried. "I barely understood that, but I recognize the accent."

In the room full of Dominance Forcers United, Germany became alarmed. "Whose soldier is that!" he snapped.

Russia smiled sweetly. "Sit down, Germany." He turned to the girl sitting an inch from him. "Natalia, did you send out one of your soldiers to silence them?"

Belarus matched her brother's smile. "Tak, vialiki brat. I did."

The wild Belarusian fired his gun three times. Screaming, both Italians hit the floor, holding each other.

Soldiers filled the stage, surrounding them. They had what looked like riot shields up, and people in the audience grabbed the gun from the offender. The conflict ended quickly.

South Italy sat up from behind the guards. "Camilla, are you alright?" He took her hand, assisting her up.

She nodded, breathless. "That was different… I'm glad you agreed to do it, Lovino. …Feliciano would've loved doing this. He loved this song."

He nodded back, albeit slower. "He… he would. And now… now we can help him."

She hugged him tightly as he started shaking again.

"Yes. We can try."

...

**AN: I'm sorry, I'm horrible when it comes to incorporating music...**


	12. Chapter 12: Losing Italians

**AN: All translations can from Google Translate, so pardon if they are wrong.**

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my character Camilla Madrigal. I am poor, do not sue me, you'll get nothing.

...

There was a slow knock on Germany's door. He stood, still overly numb from the recent actions.

Upon opening his door, the sound of sobbing reached his ears and he felt slender arms wrap around him, clutching at his back tightly with nimble fingers. He ran a hand absently down the long, dark hair, holding the woman to him.

"…Arabella. You're back. I thought you had canceled." "I k-know, b-but it was s-scheduled, so…"

He nodded, understanding. He brought her further into the house, allowing them both to sit on the couch.

He wiped the tears from her tan cheeks, looking at her misty hazel eyes. "What's wrong? You seem to be very upset."

She sniffed, burying her face into her gloved hands. "W-We j-just got the news. M-My b-brother, the o-one I told you was a soldier, he…" she cried harder, shaking, and he felt compelled to comfort her. He wrapped his arms around her gently, rubbing her back. He knew where this was going.

"H-He _died_. Some d-damn Hungarian m-man shot him… B-But the offender w-was killed, so mio fratello has b-been avenged…" She gave a bitter, watery chuckle. "The o-only thing that c-came from it was grief and the f-fact that mio sorella h-has decided _not_ t-to become a s-soldier…"

Ludwig nodded, guilt sinking into him at her misery. "…Es tut mir leid. I will admit, I was there… I did my own fair share of killing. What did your brother look like?"

She shook her head, pulling a photo out of her purse. He looked like a cheerful man, holding gelato and waving politely. He was most certainly Italian.

"…I didn't see him. I'm sorry." "Well, y-you're a German, I wouldn't expect y-you to be working in the same area with the Hungarians."

He nodded absently. Arabella began to look concerned. "…Are you alright? You seem… nearly as downcast as I."

He sighed. Getting up, Ludwig left for a moment before returning with something in his hand. He sat back down next to her, looking at it idly.

She looked at the picture. It was of a man… boy? He looked so bright and young. He was smiling wildly, and seemed absolutely adorable. She bit her lip, brow furrowing.

"Is that your little Italian lover?" Her tone was upbeat, but sounded very, very forced. She took the picture gently, running her thumb down it. "He's… very cute."

Ludwig nodded again. "Ja… His name was Feliciano Vargas. Like you said he was a soldier for North Italy. I…" he paused, voice beginning to tremble again. He shut his eyes. "I shot him. It was an accident; I didn't know it was him. It was… probably the worst mistake of my life."

Arabella looked numb, eyes wide. _…He was able to admit to killing him? That took… a lot of courage._

She took her turn to wrap her arms around his shoulders tightly, voice soft. "I'm sorry. That's horrible."

His breath was shaky. "It was very horrible. If I could go back and sucker-punch myself, I would. I would do anything to fix it. To make it not happen.

"And that's why… I'll find a way… some way to make it up for him. If it's the last thing I do in this damn war."

...

**AN: Arabella has returned again... Thank you lovelies that reviewed and followed! Cookies for you all!**


	13. Chapter 13: Back in Iceland

**AN: All translations can from Google Translate, so pardon if they are wrong. Now with a dose of CanIce and the mentions of PruCan and HongIce!**

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my character Camilla Madrigal. I am poor, do not sue me, you'll get nothing.

...

The first thing he was aware of was acute pain. He was breathing shallowly; eyes squeezed shut in the agony.

He could feel tight bandages and gauze wrapped around his upper left arm and upper right leg, but there was a large section that went around his chest and abdomen. That part stung the most. His throat also burned, and the tang of iron unpleasant. That little taste reminded him of what had happened abruptly, and the memory was too much.

He started trembling, pressing his forehead into the chest that was in front of him. It was lean and yet strong, and in it he found a sense of safety.

A gentle, long arm wrapped around him, stroking his hair. "Shh, Emil. It's alright. That whole event's over. I know it was hard for you, but I don't think it will happen again."

_That's right,_ he reminded himself, _he found me. Canada found me and took me away._ He snuggled into the chest, seeking comfort. A light kiss pecked the crown of his head.

A part of him absolutely loved this, though he wouldn't admit it. It was the kind of attention he used to crave from Norway or even Denmark, Sweden, and Finland when he was little. He had regarded them all as his brothers… but mainly Norway. They were actually related. Norway had been there before the other three. Nowadays he knew that he was far too old to go crying to his older brother…

But now Lukas was gone.

The other part of him was somewhat ashamed of himself. He was the baby of his family that was true, and with that he hadn't really grown out of it. He was used to never having to do anything on his own, and was perhaps _just_ a little spoiled… But here was Canada. He was the younger brother as well. He was even one of the youngest in the world, actually.

And here he was, making _him_ feel safe.

Guilt, fear, and pain were not doing him well. Tears stung his eyes, and soon he was crying into that solid chest.

He felt himself being pulled back, two pairs of blue eyes meeting each other. Canada gave a slight smile. "Come on now, you don't have to cry. You're safe now." He then proceeded to thumb away the tears carefully, the little smile never leaving the Canadian's face.

"Guð, I'm sorry…" he whispered, the shame winning. Matthew chuckled. "Why are you apologizing? It's alright, Emil. Are you still in pain?"

As if in response, his back began to feel on fire from the shot. "J-Já… I am…" He couldn't control the whimper that escaped him as he leaned back into the other. "It hurts a lot…"

"Hey, shush now, it's alright mon cher. It's okay if it hurts. We're safe, we're in your house, we're guarded, and there have been no signs of the other Nordics." "D-Did you…?"

A slightly sad look overcame the younger's face. "They retreated at my call. I brought you back here while my soldiers rounded up the rest of yours. I pressed the snow into your wounds to numb them, and took the bullet out of your back. I then bandaged you up and it was straight to bed with you. I monitored your health until my patrol came back. No hostile threats are in the country. So there's nothing wrong, you don't have to cry."

But that didn't seem to help. The Icelandic only proceeded to sob, alarming Matthew.

"H-Hey! W-What's wrong?" he asked, sitting up and cradling the smaller one to him. "It's okay, Emil, don't cry…"

Matt was at a complete loss for what to do. So, he did the only thing that came to mind.

He tipped Emil's chin up, kissing him gently. At first, the Nordic was shocked – but then became even more surprised as he gave into the embrace, allowing the now French kiss.

It was a while before he came to his senses, breaking the kiss. "Hvað í fjandanum!"

"Je suis désolé!" Canada apologized quickly. "I know, that was sudden, but that's what Papa always said to do if someone was upset and I don't know I guess I just panicked!"

Emil covered his face with a hand. "Guð, but I liked it… Is this… because of that treaty? The Nord Vindur Treaty? It doesn't help that Kaoru hasn't called me since this war started either…"

"Merde, j'avais complètement oublié de Hong Kong..." Matthew face-palmed. Emil still looked horrified. "And what about _Prussia_? Won't he kill us if he finds out!?"

Matthew nodded thoughtfully. "He might. Really what we have to worry about it Prussia, Hong Kong, Norway, and America ganging up together. _That's_ when we both die."

Emil groaned, leaning forward, arms wrapped around his knees, wounds still agitated. "Didn't Roderich say something about this when he made all of us sign those treaties?" "Yeah, that's true…"

Matt shrugged. "I suppose we're just going to have to live with it." He got out of the bed, holding out his hand. "Do you want breakfast? If you can't walk, I'll carry you."

Flushing horribly, he took the hand. "I can walk… there's no reason to carry me…" he said, standing with him. The second he stumbled, he felt Canada wrap an arm around his back.

"Alright then, let's walk together."

...

**AN: Cute~. Please R&R!**


	14. Chapter 14: True Identity

**AN: All translations can from Google Translate, so pardon if they are wrong.**

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my character Camilla Madrigal. I am poor, do not sue me, you'll get nothing.

...

Germany slowly put down his phone. That had been Greece. Apparently the next strike was to South Italy, and the attacking force would consist of the Greeks and Mexicans.

He wondered if Arabella would be as stressed as the other Italians. There were currently panicked riots going on all across both North and South Italy. He would get the chance to ask her today, for she was going to be over any minute now–

There was the knock.

He let her in and they greeted each other with a short hug and kiss before walking to the kitchen.

He loved her sense of style. He knew that Italians were always into fashion, but she always looked amazing. She also always matched her dress with accessories, such as her hat and her purse and assorted necklaces and bracelets. The only thing he had noticed that she _didn't_ wear was earrings. But who was he to judge?

"So, how have you been lately? Has there been any chaos in your country?" he asked, making conversation. He had gotten better at small talk thanks to her.

She nodded slightly, and he noticed that she looked fairly wiped. She wasn't even wearing makeup today. "Yeah. Everyone's causing havoc… my family's in a panic. I haven't been feeling to well recently either…"

"Are you ill?" Ludwig asked, concerned. "If you need to rest, that's alright." "No, don't worry about it!" she flashed her typical smile, only it seemed just a little more pained than sexy. "I'm alright. Wouldn't be here if I wasn't."

They then talked for a couple hours. Ludwig noticed that she seemed to get more and more fatigued as they carried on. He absentmindedly wondered when exactly Heracles was planning for that attack.

Arabella paused for a second. She felt pain and discomfort rising slightly in her throat. _Shit… it can't be that… they were right…_

"So, have you heard of any more news recently?" she asked, tilting her head slightly. He seemed surprised by it. "Oh? Well, I'm not really sure… There's a bunch of attacks being planned but I'm not sure when they'll be put into action." "Ah… I see then."

The pain focused again in her stomach. "Excuse me for a second, will you?" Arabella asked cheerfully, patting his cheek as she walked by.

He watched her leave. _That was odd…_

…

Walking as quickly as she could down the hall, she made sure that any rooms with weapons were jammed shut. Finally, she reached the bathroom. She closed the door behind her, locking it.

She fell to her knees, arms wrapped around her abdomen. She leaned forward, panting slightly, eyes shut tightly.

"Dio... fa male così dannatamente tanto..." she whimpered, a bead of sweat rolling down her face. With alarm, she felt the burning sensation fixate on her throat again. The next thing she knew, she had started coughing, blood speckling the arm that had covered her mouth in a faint attempt to stop it.

"Arabella? Are you okay in there?" At the muffled voice behind the door, she glanced back in horror. She put on a rather fake tone. "E-Everything's alright… don't worry about me…"

She sighed, willing the pain to slow. This was getting dangerous; she had to get out of here…

That's right. They were waiting right outside in case… She picked out her phone, scrolling through it.

_"Ciao?" _"C'è un problema, qualcosa non va, è molto peggio di quanto non fosse in precedenza... assicurarsi... entrambi sono pronti per ottenere l'inferno fuori di qui..." _"Stai bene? Sembri terribile! Non ti preoccupare, stiamo aspettando proprio fuori. Fretta, si sta iniziando a spaventarmi." _"Va bene. Farò una corsa per esso. Il dolore sta diminuendo, questo potrebbe essere l'unica possibilità prendo."

She then wiped her mouth of the blood, standing shakily. Once again she heard Ludwig's voice from the other side. "Arabella, what's going on? I heard you talking to someone in Italian! Was it your family?"

She did not hesitate this time. She slammed the door open, sprinting past him to the door.

Ludwig was shocked, but instinct kicked in. He bolted after her, and as she reached the hallway with the door, he knew it was his last chance. He launched himself forward slightly, reaching out and attempting to grab her.

He _did_ manage to grab something. He felt her soft, dark brown hair in his hands. But instead of hearing her cry out in pain at the pulled hair, he watched as it was pulled _off._

Arabella now stood, frozen, in front of the door, back to him. She had dark brown hair that matched the wig – or extensions? – that now fell from his hand to the floor. But her hair was very short.

In her pause, he grabbed her wrist, turning her forcefully around. He looked into her wide, terrified hazel eyes, and realized that… something was familiar about her.

That's when, without the long hair to keep it balanced, the hat fell off of her head…

…and a very recognizable curl sprung up.

It was now almost too obvious who this was. Standing there in a dress was none other than…

"Italy Romano? You're – you're Arabella?" Germany asked, horrified. "But how the hell – this is crazy. I'm not awake right now, am I? This is a nightmare, there's no way you'd be able to pull it off…"

A deep growl issued from the Italian's throat, and he wrenched himself out of Germany's grasp. "You're such a fucking idiot! Extensions, female clothes, makeup, push my voice up a pitch higher – suddenly you can't even fucking recognize me, you damn potato bastard!" He huffed, crossing his arms. Pain was still biting at him, and he wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to stand, much less get out of the house.

"It was all fake, dammit! Those were pictures of random Italians, not a _family._ I can act, too! I'm fucking Italian; it would be a shame to my culture if I wasn't able to turn myself on! If I couldn't act well enough, I'd just shift the hat and it would rub my curl. Easy enough, you fucking _idiot._ Fake breasts, fake hips!" He gestured to the offending body parts, looking exhausted and yet furious.

"Come on! Couldn't you tell?! There was fucking obvious shit involved!" he fumed, "Antonio doesn't have anything to do with this! He wouldn't try and set you up either, potato bastard! He's smart enough not to venture into an Italian bar, I made the whole fucking thing up!"

He paused, coughing roughly again. He grimaced as more blood stained his hand. "And… and when that… that fucking _pervert_ chased me… Didn't you see how fast I was running?" he recovered shortly, "Seriously! You spent enough damn time with my fratello! And that was in heels, I'd like to see you try! And how many random civilians are that good of a shot, in the _dark_ while running_ that quickly._ I'm probably the only person that could've possibly done it."

Lovino groaned as suddenly it felt like a sledgehammer had been driven into his skull, and he thumbed his temple. "I was just… supposed to trick information out of you… we all know you loved Feliciano… they thought I'd work… and it did. But…" his voice went softer, "…you still love him, dammit." Breathless, he sunk back to the floor, the sick feeling washing over him again.

Surprise colored Germany. He had _not_ noticed any of it… at all. Not even the way 'Arabella' had cussed vehemently in Italian as 'she' shot the drunkard.

And now, Greece and Mexico were attacking South Italy while the Italians rioted out of panic. _That_ was why Romano was as beaten down as he was.

And then, the door was kicked open. Next thing he knew, Germany had a high-power gun pointed right at his face by a trigger happy Swiss.

"Sie bewegen und ich schießen Sie sich wie Sie Norditalien hat."

"Lovino!" came another voice. Costa Rica hauled the other back to his feet, holding him up. "Then the info _was_ true! Come on, we have to get you out of here." She took him out of the house quickly, leaving the two.

"You're lucky that Lovino gathered that Liechtenstein was to be attacked. If Lili was killed, I would've shot you by now."

And with that, Vash left as well. Germany let out a breath as he closed the door, locking it against any other random intruders.

He remembered when 'Arabella' had cried to him about 'her' dead brother… but that was probably the most real thing the two had shared. He hadn't known it, but... They had been crying over the same person.

_I'm sorry Feliciano. You need to come back. Your brother and I need you._

...

**AN: So the actual identity of Arabella Russo is... Lovino Vargas, South Italy, Italy Romano. Anyone see that coming? R&R! You'll get cookies if you do!**


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